'Do you ask me?' said he, now looking at her with a very bright and sweet smile. The sweetness of it was so unlike the Pitt Dallas she used to know, that Esther was confounded. 'Do you ask me? What should be the work in life of one who was once a slave and is now Christ's freeman?'
Esther looked at him speechless.
'You remember,' he said, 'the Lord's word—"This is my commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you." And then He immediately gave the gauge and measure of that love, the greatest possible,—"that a man lay down his life for his friends."'
'And you mean—?'
'Only that, Queen Esther. I reckon that my life is the Lord's, and that the only use of it is to do His work. I will study law for that, and practise as I may have occasion; and for that I will use all the means He may give me: so far as I can, to "break every yoke, and let the oppressed go free;" to "heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils," so far as I may. Surely it is the least I can do for my Master.'
Pitt spoke quietly, gravely, with the light of a settled purpose in his eye, and also with the peace of a fixed joy in his face. Indeed, his face said more than his words, to Esther who knew him and it; she read there the truth of what he said, and that it was no phantasy of passing enthusiasm, but a lifelong choice, grave and glad, of which he was telling her. With a sudden movement she stretched out her hand to him, which he eagerly clasped, and their hands lay so in each other for a minute, without other speech than that of the close-held fingers. Esther's other hand, however, had covered her eyes.
'What is the matter, Queen Esther?' said Pitt, seeing this.
'I am so glad—so glad!—and so sorry!' Esther took down her hand; she was not crying. 'Glad for you,—and sorry that there are so very few who feel as you do. Oh, how very strange it is!'
He still held her other hand.
'Yes,' he said thoughtfully, 'it is strange. What do you think of the old word in the Bible, that it is not good for man to be alone?'